you accept compliments for the sake of courtesy
throw them in the trash when they leave
like a plate filled with food, face down because you
dont want to feel rude
you take the insults and
hold them close to your heart
embrace the liquid pain that comes from their cores
and infects your veins with poison
hurt flows through your body, desperation escaping in the form of
tear-blurred eyes and bitten nails scratching at scarred wrists
until you look over at the trash can
i urge you,
draw out a crumpled compliment
for despite being worn
it is no less genuine